


i was born to smother you with flowers

by aerobreaking



Series: hold on, I still need you [9]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Also yes, Alternate Universe, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, did i say it gets resolved?? LOLOL no., i am trash for this ship and i'm done denying it, my usual victurio recipe, the title is a quote from MONSTER don't @ me ok i don't want to hear it about my lack of creativity, there's HOPE in the end. that's a better way to put it, wait, you know what that means? pain. and suffering. but it all gets resolved in the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 03:40:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29993319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aerobreaking/pseuds/aerobreaking
Summary: They say Hanahaki is an illness of adolescence and childhood. It’s extremely rare among adults—deadly among adults.
Relationships: Victor Nikiforov/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: hold on, I still need you [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728439
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	i was born to smother you with flowers

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a year since i started this series and honestly, my original intention was to finish all the stories in this series within the year but that didn't happen. obviously. lolol. i still wanted to post something to celebrate the one-year anniversary though so i pulled this scrapped story out of my WIP hell and decided that i should finish it. but anyway, without further ado, ENJOY!

* * *

_“Answer me!”_

_“I have nothing more to say to you.”_

Yuri opens his eyes to darkness and just like that, the last tendrils of his dreams evaporate to nothingness. He blinks once, twice, and finally, moves to turn off his alarm. He doesn’t bother turning on any of the lights as he moves like a zombie through his apartment. He opens the door to his room quietly and makes his way down the hall to the other much smaller bedroom. The lamp he’d left on last night still gives off a low yellow glow and it doesn’t hurt his eyes.

He goes about setting his workspace. He feels eyes on him and he turns to look at the green eyes are following his every move.

“Hey,” He murmurs to the cat.

She doesn’t answer him (not that she would) and only continues to look at him suspiciously.

When he’s done preparing all that he needs he finally goes to open the incubator he has on the metal table. He peers inside and the tiny little kittens are all still asleep except one of them whose wiggling around in the blankets mouthing at the stuffed toy Yuri had placed there.

Despite still being half asleep it makes him smile.

“I was worried about you,” He whispers as he runs a finger down his little body. “But maybe I didn’t have to.” He takes the blind kitten out and the wiggly thing stretches in his palm meowing. The other kittens don’t move at, still asleep, and he leaves them be, as closes the incubator. He takes a tissue and rubs it repeatedly against his bottom, stimulating him to pee and poop. It doesn’t take long for the tissue to be soiled. Yuri cleans him up, throws the tissue away, and finally sits down to get to the nightly feeding.

He weighs him, lays a blanket on the table, and grabs the bottle he had prepared to start feeding him. The kitten latches on immediately, his little airplane ears moving as he sucks enthusiastically. When he’s done Yuri weighs him again, satisfied to see the kitten was now heavier.

“Congratulations,” He quietly tells him, “You are getting bigger.”

The kitten meows again, seemingly satisfied.

“Okay, back to bed you go.”

He places him back inside the incubator and notices that now, the other four kittens are awake.And they’re all very hungry and impatient from the way they’re all meowing and searching for a nipple to latch on to. He takes the next one and repeats the process all over again. And again and again, until all five kittens have been stimulated to pee, weighed, and fed.

He still feels the heavy stare of green eyes. He turns to look at the cat. She’s in a large cage he’s placed on the floor, so pregnant she looks ready to burst. Unfortunately for all of them, Yuri especially (he had scratched all over his arms), she’s feral. So until she gives birth and the three months are up, he can’t let her wander around the room. This has caused her to think Yuri’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. She really, _really_ hates him.

“See you.” He tells her as he stands up and walks out of the room. Her eyes follow him and it isn’t until Yuri’s shut the door behind that he feels her stare stop.

Outside he finds Makkachin and Potya looking up at him.

“What are you doing awake?” He asks them. He receives no answer. He checks his phone and the time displayed is 4:10. He runs a hand through his face, tired. So unbelievably tired. “Let's go back to bed,” He tells them and they follow after him.

When he’s tucked himself back into bed, Potya lays on his chest and Makkachin curls herself beside him. Yuri doesn’t waste time falling back asleep.

It feels as though he just closed his eyes but it's two hours later and his alarm is ringing again. He lets out an audible groan and almost feels the urge to kick his legs childishly. Sometime during the time he fell asleep Potya got off his chest and now used Makkachin as her bed. He stares at them for a moment, again feeling that heaviness that makes his bones feel like he’s being weighed down. He doesn’t want to get up, but he forces himself out of bed. His pets don’t move and once again he tries to be as quiet as possible when he opens the door.

When he opens the door of the kitten's room, the mama cat is asleep, and Yuri tries to be as quiet as possible as he goes about preparing the kitten formula but he’s too loud for her keen ears and again she stares at him while he works.

He feeds all one-week-old kittens, weighs them, and stimulates them to go to the restroom. When he’s done he kneels in front of the cage and tells her, “Don’t scratch me.”

With careful movements he opens the door of the cage, reaching in slowly to take out the litter box and bowls. The mama cat doesn’t move but doesn’t take her eyes off Yuri even for a split second. When he has the cage securely shut closed, he stands up and cleans the litter box, puts fresh water in one of the bowls, and wet food on the other. When he places everything back in the cage, mama cat is standing against the farthest side, hungry but waiting for Yuri’s meddling hands to be out of her way.

The second Yuri closes the cage she sprints to the food, eating enthusiastically.

“I really need a name for you,” Yuri tells her, “I can’t keep calling you mama cat.” He sits cross-legged on the floor, “What would be a good name for you? You’re all black so…Nightwing? Black Panther? Queen of the Night? Destroyer? Harbinger of Chaos…Shadow? Mmm, that’s not bad. Shadow.” She doesn’t pay him any attention, busy eating, “Well, then. Shadow it is.”

He stands up, checking on the kittens in the incubator one last time and then cleaning up the mess he left out from when he fed them. When he’s done he opens the door and unsurprisingly, Makkachin and Potya are outside.

“You guys are way too dependent,” He tells them.

He walks around his empty apartment opening up the curtains as the outside the world is barely beginning to light up. The view is familiar to him, and yet it feels strange to be here.

He begins to make himself breakfast.

For the past four years, he’s been away at school, studying to be a veterinarian for this shitty city that only had one. He feels a bit fulfilled, despite still begin ways away from opening his own clinic. At least now he has the knowledge under his belt, now what he needs is money and clients. But all in due time.

“Makkachin,” He calls out, “Let’s go for a walk!”

The dog comes running excitedly up to him, and Yuri grabs her leash, leaning down to latch it onto her collar. Potya wades around his feet, meowing in protest about the obvious favoritism. “I’ll play with you when I come back,” Yuri tells her.

She doesn’t seem too convinced but when Yuri pours out her food she’s content enough to let them go.

The apartment complex is almost the same as Yuri remembers even the neighbors are still mostly the same. The old couple two doors down to the left from him are still—miraculously—alive. The apartment between them is still vacant, despite the years, and the neighbors to his right moved out a long time ago, and now a new girl lived there. He’d seen her many times on her balcony, watering her plants.

The park that he used to spend so much time in as a kid is even the same. There aren’t as many cats there as he remembers but maybe that’s because he’d managed to neuter and spay all of them before he left for university. Makkachin seems very excited to be back, or maybe she’s just excited to be out of the apartment because she wags her tail for the entire walk. Yuri takes a seat on a bench as the cool air of the morning begins to warm with the rising of the sun. Some of the cats approach them, curiously looking at them and wondering who these strangers are. One of them even comes close enough that Yuri is able to pet it, and the cat looks very content until Makkachin gets excited about their new friend and barks happily and frightens him away.

The dog whines when the cat doesn’t approach them again and Yuri shakes his head, “I’ve told you not to bark at them.” Makkachin looks at him with wide puppy eyes, Yuri pats her head, “I’m sure he’ll come back some other time.”

* * *

Viktor moves out of Saint Petersburg when he’s twenty-seven, the city life is not for him anymore. When he’d arrived there at seventeen all bright-eyed and hopeful for independence it seemed like the city would be his home forever but as the years passed the city just chipped away at his soul until there was nothing left. He leaves empty-handed, just as he had arrived.

He chooses, instead, to go back home to a dreary town six hours away. He toyed with the idea of moving abroad or maybe to a more ideal place but in the end decided to just come back to the place he had, in his youth, wanted so desperately to run away from. Coming back home is familiar and at the same not. The town has grown, it’s nothing like he remembers. There are new buildings, new parks, new roads. He sees glimpses of the place he used to know, but it’s been overshadowed by change. He supposed this is a good thing. Maybe.

The apartment complex is nice—not anything extravagant like his old, clinical-looking condo. It’s old but it’s been remodeled and, if nothing else, it has personality. It’s not anything like he’s used to so he welcomes the change. His first week there he buys furniture, plates, curtains, and a bed. He buys groceries and necessities and it's not bad, not at all. But it’s not good either.

He works from home, editing videos for a massive conglomerate that specializes in aviation technology. It’s work. What can he say? He’s just glad he has a job.

The days pass slowly and after two months there Viktor starts to think that maybe he made a terrible mistake. But things change one night when he’s coming home from the supermarket.

He knows he has neighbors, the ones on the left are an old couple that liked to argue about the weather forecast in the early hours of the morning, but they were nice. They’d baked him a pie and he’d helped them with their wifi connection more than once. The neighbors to his right though, are a mystery. Viktor has never seen them or heard a peep from them but the old couple reassured him that people did live there.

So that day, that fateful—life-changing—day he’s walking into the complex, bags in his hands, when he sees that just outside the entrance there’s a boy crouched by the bushes. The boy is facing away from him and the first thing Viktor notices about him is his blond hair. For a moment Viktor doesn’t think much about it and he’s about to be on his way when the boy says to something, “Come here…don’t be like this. I’m trying to help you…just…come here…”

It makes Viktor pause, and he sees the boy fall to his knees and stretch his arm out and he instantly draws it back, spitting a curse. The bushes rustle and then a cat springs out but before it can run away the blond boy, with lighting fast reflexes, grabs it. The cat struggles in his hold, hissing and digging its nails into the pale skin of the kid.

“ _Motherfucker!_ ” He exclaims but doesn't let it go. Instead, he frantically looks around until he spots Viktor and his eyes widen before he shouts, “Hey you! Can you—will you _stop?_ —can you open that carrier for me?” He motions to the carrier that’s a few steps away from him and Viktor hesitates too long because the boy snaps as he continues to struggle with the cat, “ _The carrier!_ Open it!”

Viktor moves this time, dropping the bags and picking up the carrier, and opening it as he brings it to the boy and he doesn’t waste time stuffing the cat inside. It all happens very quickly and the cat continues to hiss even after they’ve closed the door. It moves in circles around inside, very, very upset.

“Thanks…” The reluctant gratitude makes Viktor’s attention go back to the boy. He’s dusting off dirt from his pants and shirt.

“Are you alright?” He asks, worriedly looking at the deep scratches on his arms.

The boy nods, “I’m used to it.”

Victor raises an eyebrow, “You get into fights with cats often?”

He looks up, ready to say something back but then he really looks at Viktor and he snaps his mouth shut. After a few seconds of contemplation he questions, “You’re new around here?”

“Yes,” Viktor says, a bit surprised, “How did you know?”

He looks him up and down as if he were appraising him, “I haven’t seen you around.”

“Do you know everyone in this complex?”

“Mostly. I’ve lived here a long time.”

“Ahh,” Viktor says, then he extends his hand, “Well, I’m Viktor Nikiforov.”

The blond boy looks at his hand for a fraction too long but then he shakes it, “Yuri Plisetsky.”

When he first meets Yuri, he thinks he’s a cute kid. As he thinks other kids are cute. But Yuri spits, “I’m _fourteen_.” As if that made him less of a child. Still, Viktor doesn’t think much of it. He becomes acquaintances with him after the incident with the cat. Mostly because Viktor’s curious about this kid who says he wrestles with cats on a frequent basis. Though it’s not much of wrestling.

Yuri’s personal mission in life was to control the towns growing cat population and used all his free time trapping stray cats on the streets.

“I have a deal with the vet in town,” He explains to Viktor, “For every cat I bring that they have to spay or neuter I have to volunteer hours cleaning their horse stables…it sucks but I can usually do it on the weekends.”

Viktor usually saw him outside every day after he came home from school with a crate in hand. He thinks it’s very sweet of him and when he has time, Viktor will come out of his cave and try to help him. It’s a good way to pass the time.

He comes to learn that besides trapping cats, Yuri also took care of pregnant cats at home and gave them a safe place to give birth and care for their kittens. Viktor had wanted to ask if this was something his parents were okay with but Yuri never really spoke about this family so Viktor thought it was wise to not bring it up.

* * *

It’s another two weeks before Shadow gives birth, and Yuri spends the whole night on the floor, trying to do the best he can to make it easier on her. She yowls loudly, moving from one side to the other in the cage, trying to find some relief from the pain. This is probably her first litter, since it seems she’s completely inexperienced, and the time between the births of the kitten is anywhere from forty minutes to an hour and a half. By the morning, Yuri feels like death, but Shadow and all her little panthers—all six of them—are asleep. He cleans up as best he can, without distressing the mama.

Now that this is finally all over, he can bring the other kittens back inside. They’re three weeks old now, and they’re very curious. He’d had to place them in his room in a carrier while Shadow gave birth so they could sleep without all the screaming she had done.

He sets up the playpen for them and lets them roam.

He’s busy in the following weeks, taking care of both the orphan kittens and the new mom and her babies. He can’t be away from home longer than three hours, not right now when they’re young. So he doesn’t go out much those first few months back home. As the weeks crawl by, however, and the kittens get bigger and bigger his time becomes more flexible. When the kittens reach the age where he can spay and neuter them, on the bulletin board by the entrance of the apartment complex he posts an announcement, “Kittens available for adoption. Please contact Yuri in apartment 4D if interested.”

He gets a few knocks on his door about it and he meets with the prospect adopters one on one to make sure the kittens are going to good, loving homes. Four go within two weeks since he posts the announcement. Now from the orphans, only one is left, and the six from Shadow are still too little to be put up for adoption.

In regards to Shadow, she’s begun to realize that Yuri isn’t so bad, and he has _food_ all the time so that’s a plus, and she decides that being around him isn’t the end of the world. She lets Yuri scratch her ears and when she’s done attending to mommy duty, Yuri lets her roam outside the kitten room—after making sure she and Potya didn’t kill each other. Shadow doesn’t like Potya immediately but they learn to tolerate each other. She takes to Makkachin quickly, though, and that only makes Potya jealous. So in all matters, they were civil, except when Makkachin was involved. They would hiss and bare their fangs when the fluffy dog showed interest in one more than the other.

“I know, I know,” Yuri says, petting Potya, “But she’s only going to be here for a few more weeks. She’s not going to take Makkachin with her.” The cat meowed in protest as if telling Yuri she didn’t care that Shadow was going to leave soon, all she wanted was for her to leave Makkachin alone.

Makkachin, for her part, was more than glad to have the attention of two little ladies. It made for a world of entertainment.

“You’re an instigator,” Yuri tells her one day as he brushes her fur, “A complete troublemaker.”

The dog barks happily as if agreeing. Yuri shakes his head, running the brush over her head. There’s a knock on the door that distracts him from whatever thought he was going to have. He quickly stands from the stool he’d been sitting on and throws the ball of fur in the trash as he wipes his hands. “Go to find Potya,” He tells Makkachin and the dog runs off, wagging her tail.

The doorbell rings again, he calls out, “Coming!”

When he opens the door an Asian man is standing on the other side, one that he’s never seen before.

“Hi!” The man greets, his Russian accent heavy. “My name is Katsuki Yuuri and I saw your announcement.” He pauses when Yuri continues staring at him, “About the kittens.”

“Oh, yes, were you interested in adopting?”

“I am, though…I’m not really from around these parts.”

Yuri raises an eyebrow, “And…you still want to adopt?”

He nods, “I’ll be here for a few…weeks. Months, maybe. Until—well, until some unresolved business is taken care of. I’d like a companion, in the meantime.”

Yuri frowns and repeats, “Just in the meantime?”

“Oh, oh, no!” He exclaims, raising his hands and waving them in front of himself, “I would take him—or her—with me, once I went back home.”

Yuri contemplates this stranger for a moment, taking in his dark hair and glasses and his nervous smile. He figures it won’t hurt to at least give him a chance, he opens the door wider, “You can take a look at them if you’d like.”

“Yes!” He exclaimed, “I definitely would.”

Yuri leads the man through his apartment until they reach the kitten room, “I only have one that’s available for adoption immediately. The others are still too little, but if you say you’re going to be here…you can place a hold on one of them.”

He opens the door, and all the kittens are roaming the room, jumping from one place to another, their toys flying all over the place. They’re beginning to get to that age where they had more energy than Yuri had patience so he let them tire themselves out before trying to get them to calm down.

“Oh, they’re so cute!” The man says, looking around at all of them.

“You can sit here,” Yuri mumbles, taking a stool and placing it in the middle of the room, “They’ll come to you…if they like you.”

The man sits where Yuri had instructed and it’s not long before the kittens are trying to climb on his legs. The man doesn’t seem the least bit bothered.

“Have you owned a cat before?”

He shakes his head, “No, just a dog. But he passed away a long time ago.”

“And you’re sure…you want a cat?”

“Sure! They’re cute! I don’t mind them at all.”

“Where are you from, exactly?”

“Japan!”

“Ah,” Yuri says, nodding, “That’s far.”

The man laughs and he jokes, “Yes, it’s a bit of drive.”

He’s taken one of the string toys and plays with the kittens, they all gather around, trying to be the one to swipe it out of his hands.

“So are you…here for work? Or something?” Yuri asks.

“No,” The man shakes his head, “It’s…” He stops, looking a little sad but then he continues, “One of my friends is sick. I’m here to…visit him.”

“Oh, I’m…sorry to hear that.”

He smiles softly, “It’s not your fault.”

Yuri wants to say, _duh it’s not my fault._ But refrains.

When Yuuri is getting ready to leave, Makkachin comes outside of Yuri’s room and the Japanese man looks at Makkachin in surprise, “You have a dog?”

Yuri nods.

“That’s surprising.”

“Hah??” Yuri asks, offended.

“No-no I meant no offense…it’s just…you don’t seem like a dog person at all.”

Yuuri leaves after giving Yuri a round of apologies and Yuri gets back to grooming Makkachin’s fur. Makkachin sits patiently as Yuri works the brush through her whole body, and he thinks about what Yuuri had said. It's true dogs aren’t his first choice of a pet but Makkachin is Makkachin. She’s—special. When he’s done, he lets her go find Potya again and as he gathers the stray fur that she’d shed, something makes him pause.

 _I have a dog?_ He asks himself. He pauses, looking at the ball of fur in his hand. _When did I—?_

* * *

When Viktor looks back on those days—from where he is now—he’s able to see all the little things that piled up and up until everything came crashing down on him. He couldn’t see it then, but now he could and he wished he could force himself into wanting things to be different. But he couldn’t. If Viktor had a choice, he’d chose this again, because he couldn’t fathom a world—a life—where Yuri didn’t exist.

Yuri and he become quite close, partly because the boy provides funny entertainment and partly because Viktor is worried about the amount of time this kid spends on his own. After getting to know him, Viktor finds out his mother works night shifts at the local hospital and he’s left to fend off on his own.

At first, Viktor tries to ward him off, telling him to go play with kids his age.

“I don’t want to,” Yuri tells him, his face set into a frown.

It doesn’t take Viktor long to understand why. Yuri is small and scrawny for his age, an easy target of the older, more domineering teenagers his age. Yuri had come home with bruises a number of times before Viktor finally caught on to why Yuri was such a loner.

“They’re a bunch of assholes,” He tells Viktor, as Viktor tries to clean up his bloody knuckles.

“Your mother doesn’t notice these,” Viktor had asked, poking the purple marks on Yuri’s cheeks. The boy flinched back, slapping his hand away.

“No,” He mumbles, “And it’s not like she’d care anyway.”

Viktor shook his head, “I’m sure she would.”

“Tch,” Yuri snapped, “You don’t know her.”

Viktor had sighed and let the subject drop. Then Viktor offers food to him _once_ and suddenly the kid is looking at him like he’s his daily ticket for a free meal. Yuri begins to show up consistently at Viktor’s apartment, especially towards the evening, when Viktor was preparing dinner for himself. He pretends to not know what Yuri is doing. He always makes sure to make ‘extra’ food that he won’t be able to eat but Yuri is more than happy to shovel down his mouth.

“No one is taking the food away from you,” Viktor would chaste, “Have some manners.”

“Mmm,” Yuri would hum, his cheeks stuffed with food.

The boy is too transparent, despite all his bravado, Viktor can easily see that he begins to trust Viktor implicitly. It worries him. He is so vulnerable, so easily deceived that it makes Viktor want to protect him but Viktor cannot allow himself to become the adult in Yuri’s life that he depends on. He does all he can to keep Yuri away from him.

“I have to work today,” He tells Yuri at the door, handing him a tupperware filled with dinner, “You can’t stay today.”

“But—“ Yuri begins.

“Sorry,” He interrupts, “But I have to go.”

He shuts the door on his face and pretends to not hear him knocking at his door late at night. It’s like this for many weeks until Yuri shows up drenched down to his bones and squirming bag in his hands, he’s crying, “Help me. I—I don’t know what to do!”

He’s looking up at Viktor like he’s the only one who can help him. “Please. I—I can’t—“

Viktor ushers him inside and when Viktor sees what’s in the bag he feels his heart stop. “I found—someone left them—I—“ Yuri is stammering. “I don’t know how to take care of puppies.” He cries.

In the bag, there are five newborn puppies, cold and bloody, and crying. He takes them from Yuri’s hands, instructing him to dry off and find something in Viktor’s closet to put on while he figures out what to do. Yuri stays frozen in place as if he didn’t understand the words coming out of Viktor’s mouth.

“Yura,” He says, loudly, snapping Yuri out of whatever trance he’d been caught in, “Go change.”

He blinks, looking at Viktor with large worried eyes, he asks, anxiety and distress clear in his voice, “You’ll save them?”

“I’ll do all I can,” Viktor vaguely answers, not wanting to give him any false hopes.

Viktor takes the puppies to his bathroom, grabbing all the towels he has and dumping them on the tub. He cleans them up as best he can, all the while he searches on his phone on how to take care of them. _I have to get them warm,_ Viktor thinks to himself as he wraps each puppy in a towel. _They’re too little to regulate their own temperatures._ He goes in search of blankets and fills three water bottles with hot water. He places the bottles under the puppies, hoping that it’ll help them keep warm.

He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he feels Yuri kneeling beside him after some time, his eyes bloodshot, and looking down at the puppies worriedly.

“How are they?” He asks.

“I’m trying to get them warm,” Viktor tells him, motioning to his phone, “I looked it up.”

Yuri takes his phone, asking for his password to unlock it and Viktor doesn’t think much about it before he’s giving him his password. Yuri reads the article thoroughly and as more and more understanding dawns on his face, his worry fades away. “It’s like kittens,” He tells Viktor as he locks off the phone, “I’ll be right back!”

He runs out of the bathroom and Viktor doesn't know what he’s thinking until he comes back with a heating pad, more blankets, a canvas bag filled with miscellaneous things like bottles and different sized nipples, and finally, a small space heater. Wordlessly Yuri connects the heater to the outlet, sits on the floor next to the tub, and carefully picked up two of the crying puppies.

“It’s better to hold them,” He instructs Viktor, as he places his heating pad on his lap and places the puppies on top of it. His tears have dried on his face and his nose and cheeks are still red, but as he falls back into his caretaking habits, he looks a bit more in control now. Viktor follows his example and picks up the remaining three puppies and they’re so tiny he can hold them in one hand. He sits with his back against the tub and places the warm water bottles in his lap and then the puppies on top of them.

The heat of the heater is hitting them full force and his small bathroom is unbearably warm in a matter of minutes. Yuri sniffs beside him, looking down at the squirming creatures in his lap, and he tells Viktor, “I was feeding the cats all afternoon, I knew it was going to rain so I made sure to do it early. But it started pouring before I could finish and then on my way back I heard them crying.” His eyes filled with tears again and he angrily mumbles, “They were going to die. Why are humans such fucking trash? They’re defenseless! Why—why would someone do something like this?”

Viktor doesn’t say anything as Yuri continues talking and cursing the people that left the puppies out in the rain. He carefully moves one of his hands to pat Yuri on the head, trying to comfort him, “I don’t know, Yura.”

They spent the next hour fussing over the puppies and when they’ve reached a body temperature that seems stable, Viktor hands the three he has to Yuri, “I’m going to go buy them some formula so we can feed them.”

Yuri nods, “Okay.”

Viktor grabs his keys and wallet before making his way down to his car quickly. He drives as fast as he can, goes straight to the pet aisle and picks up what he needs, including some training pads, and then goes immediately back to his apartment. He’s not prepared to find Yuri sobbing over the body of one of the puppies. He holds the tiny thing in his hands and he shows it to Viktor with a hopeless look in his eyes as he wails, “He’s dead!”

Viktor curses before taking the body from Yuri’s hands, “You should go home,” He tells him, but Yuri shakes his head, and refuses to even step out of the bathroom.

It’s a long, long night.

They try to bottle feed the other four but two of them don’t latch onto the nipple of the bottle and by two in the morning, they’re gone. There’s no one they can call to help the other two and the vet doesn’t open until nine. Until then, the only thing they can do is figure it out on their own.

When morning comes, only one of the puppies is still alive and Yuri has long ago run out of tears to cry. He presses his face to Viktor’s shoulder as they sit on the bathroom floor with the puppy in Viktor’s lap. The bodies of the four other puppies are in a shoebox outside the bathroom where Yuri can’t see them.

“Is he okay?” He groggily asks Viktor every few minutes, unable to check himself for fear of finding yet another dead puppy.

“Yes,” Viktor answers, holding the little squirming thing between his hands. “He’s okay.”

A few more hours pass before Viktor makes Yuri take the puppy. “I’m going to get things ready so we can be the firsts ones at the vet, okay?”

Yuri nods and cradles the bundle close to his chest.

Viktor uses this opportunity to rid himself of the bodies of the other four puppies without Yuri noticing. When he’s done, he does as he had said, preparing a box with the heating pad and clean blankets so they can take the last remaining puppy to the vet.

True to Viktor’s word, they’re the first to be seen at the clinic, and the vet looks over the puppy with worried eyes. He flickers his eyes to Yuri, noticing his bloodshot eyes, and then to Viktor and then back to Yuri.

“I think it would be better if you stepped out of the room,” He tells Yuri.

“I’m staying!” Yuri says resolutely.

The vet looks to Viktor as if telling him to tell Yuri to leave but Viktor shakes his head, “He’ll stay.”

The other man sighs heavily before telling them, “He’s okay for now…but from what you’ve told me it’s possible that he might still die in the next few hours. I can…euthanize him, so he can suffer less. I think it would be for the best— ”

“NO!” Yuri intervenes before the vet finishes speaking. “That’s not what we’re here for!”

The vet gives a look to Viktor again, and Viktor ignores it, “He’s right,” He says instead, “We’re not here to euthanize him.”

The vet looks frustrated, but seems to give up, “Fine,” He starts, “But I hope you know that if he dies he’s going to suffer because of your selfishness,” His gaze is directly on Yuri and Viktor feels a surge of anger at hearing him speak to him that way. He clenches his fists, trying to keep himself from telling the vet his own choice of words.

“He’s not going to die!” Yuri snaps back, “We’re going to take care of him!”

They leave the clinic with less reassurance than when they got there, but Yuri is nothing if not resourceful and on the way back to their apartment he researches all he can on how to take care of newborn puppies.

They spend the following days giving the dark-haired puppy around the clock attention, weighing and making sure that he gains more and more weight with every single feeding.

A week after the incident, and the puppy is still alive, and Yuri smiles in satisfaction, “See?” Hehauntingly tells the vet the next time they go see him, “He’s a fighter.”

“He is,” The older man says, “I guess I was wrong…but he’s a _she_.”

Makkachin is the name Viktor gives her because he’s decided that he’s going to keep her and Yuri is delighted to know that she’s not going to be far away from him.

Weeks later, when she’s grown enough to begin playing he tells Viktor, “She’s our baby.”

And Viktor laughs, “She’s _my_ baby.”

“Nu-uh, I’m the one who found her.”

“And I’m the one who feeds her and walks her and buys her all her toys.”

“Exactly!” Yuri exclaims, “This is what co-parenting is!”

Viktor doesn’t entertain his crazy ideas, shaking his head at them and pretending that they don’t make him strangely amused.

Months go by with Yuri coming over to visit more often, and Viktor forgetting completely about his original plan to distance himself from the boy. Yuri still traps cats and works at the vet during the weekends to get them neutered and spayed but he spends his evenings at Viktor’s apartment, playing with Makkachin until late at night until Viktor has to force him to go home.

It’s around Yuri’s fifteenth birthday, when he’s been Yuri's neighbor for almost nine months, that Viktor coughs up his first petal.

He stares at the tiny rose petal in his hand with stupefied confusion, not understanding how he could have possibly produced it when he had no symptoms, but more alarming than that, Hanahaki _didn’t_ affect people his age. It was—it was practically unheard of.

He tries to calm the racing beating of his heart and shakes off his worry, concluding that since it was such a minor thing, that it would go away on its own.

* * *

Katsuki Yuuri turns out to be someone Yuri sees more often than he would like. He’s never had a cat before and he comes to Yuri to ask advice almost every other day. He has to spend an annoying amount of time explaining to the guy that cats are not like dogs and that they need space and time to get used to their new environment. At least the guy seems to be very eager in trying to understand, so Yuri tries his best to not feel like he’s wasting his time.

He’s managed to find homes for the majority of the kittens he had in his care and now there’s only Shadow and two of her litter left.

He calls Otabek because he somehow always manages to charm girls into taking in kittens.

“I have a mama and two kittens left,” He tells him, “Think you can find homes for them?”

“I’ll ask around,” Otabek replies, “But I’m surprised there are still some left.”

“Yeah, I think it’s because I had eleven kittens total…that’s a lot.”

On the other end of the line, Otabek is talking to someone and Yuri feels a bit annoyed that he’s being ignored but then when he comes back on the line he tells Yuri, “So I think I found a home for one of them.”

Yuri stares at the wall in disbelief, “How in the hell did you get someone so fast?”

Otabek clears his throat, “There’s a girl—“

“Ah, there’s a _girl._ ” Yuri teases, immediately picking up on his tone of voice.

“Not like that,” He pauses, “Not like that _yet_ …”

“Oh, man! You are ridiculous! I can’t believe you!”

“Shut up,” He tells Yuri, “I don’t want to hear this from you.”

“Fuck you,” Yuri automatically answers, already knowing where this conversation is heading. Yuri’s sad love life is something he’s sore about, despite saying that it doesn’t bother him. It’s just that no one has ever felt right. No one has ever made him love as much as — had. He blinks, his vision blurring, tendrils of some lost memory trying to resurface but it doesn’t _exist_ anymore so he can’t remember it. His heart lurches, and he shuts his eyes tightly, trying to get the wave of nausea to pass.

“—Yura—“ Otabek’s voice interrupts him, “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

“—It’s fine.” Yuri cuts, “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He leans his elbow on the table, holding his head in his hand, “It’s just—destabilizing.” He finishes lamely.

“I’m sorry,” Otabek says again, “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Yuri runs his hand through his face as he looks up, “Nothing I can’t deal with.”

“Have you gone to see a doctor?”

“No…” He slowly says, “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“Yura…” He says, in a reproachful tone.

“It’s _fine,_ ” Yuri stresses, “Phantom memories are a side effect of surgery.”

“But it’s been years Yura. That’s not normal. You need to get a scan done to make sure the entire root was removed.”

“I’ll get it done soon, shit. Stop babying me.” He snaps, suddenly angry at the concerned tone in Otabek’s voice.

“Sorry,” His friend automatically answers and Yuri rolls his eyes.

“Stop apologizing too, for fuckssake.” Before he hears Otabek apologize again, he quickly adds, “My neighbor has been driving me up a fucking wall.”

“Neighbor?” Okabek asks, his voice deepening, “What neighbor?”

“The one on the left. He—“

“I thought you said that apartment was empty,” His friend uncharacteristically interrupts.

“Well I thought it was—“

“And he’s been talking to you?” Otabek sounds angry now. So unlike Yuri has ever heard him.

“Yeah—he’s—“

“Don’t talk to him anymore.” He demands, “Don’t even open the door. I knew you going back there was a bad idea. You need to move. I’ll help you find a place—“

“Woah, Woah. Hold the fuck up.” Yuri says, “You can’t decide things for me. And Yuuri’s not _that_ bad.”

“Did—did you just refer to yourself in third person?”

“ _No._ That’s the name of my neighbor. He’s Japanese.”

“Oh,” Otabek says, belatedly. “ _Oh._ ”

He remains silent on the other end of the line for a long, pregnant pause. He clears his throat, “Well, then…never mind.”

For a moment Yuri doesn’t know how to proceed, completely blindsided by Otabek’s severe shift of mood. “You’re…being strange.”

“I’m…just concerned.” He immediately replies and it makes Yuri even more confused.

“I don’t—I don’t understand why my neighbor would be such a big deal to be concerned about.”

Otabek remains silent on the other line again and for some reason, his silence is telling enough, Yuri bites down on his tongue to keep from making a comment.

He clears his throat and forces himself to wave off the whole thing, “Anyway, he’s very weird. He comes and asks about the kitten he adopted almost all the time. He even takes notes and—“ Yuri rambles and rambles, trying to keep the rising anxiety he feels out of his voice. When his conversation with Otabek ends, he stares into space for a long time.

Ever since his surgery, he’s been looking for answers.

He knows he shouldn’t because it's detrimental to his health but Yuri wants to _know._ He wants to know who it was that he loved—who it was that broke his heart.

He wants to see what type of person he’d gone and grown flowers in his chest for.

It makes him even more curious when he does things and knows things that he doesn’t ever remember learning on his own or anyone teaching him. And it’s the fact that there are _too_ many things that concerns him.

He wonders…wonders if the friend Katsuki Yuuri was here to see…had any connection to him. It’s a leap too far, but he has nothing to lose by asking.

“We met at a company meeting years ago,” Yuuri tells him the next time he comes by and Yuri asks about it, “We work for the same aviation company. I translate the videos from English to Japanese and my friend would translate from English to Russian, it’s mostly done remotely though, so I work from Japan. We kept in contact all this time but last year he told me he was quitting. I was so shocked because it came out of nowhere, but then he told me it was because he was sick.” He nurses the warm cup of tea in his hand sadly, “He’s at a hospice.” He bites his lower lip, “He probably only has a couple of weeks left.”

“I’m sorry,” Yuri tells him, lowering his eyes when he sees the tears in Yuuri’s eyes.

He shakes his head, “I’m just glad that to be with him…but it’s awful…I hate it. Especially since I can’t do anything about it—and it’s a condition that can be cured but he refuses to get the procedure done—” He chokes and he forcefully clears his throat, “Sorry, so-sorry. I don’t mean to dump his on you.”

“It’s no big deal. But if you don’t mind me asking…what procedure is it?”

Yuuri wipes his eyes, and tells Yuri, “He…well, he has Hanahaki disease. It’s progressed to the point where he can’t even breathe without a machine. He’s in constant pain and yet—yet he doesn’t get the root removed. And I just don't know why...”

* * *

It takes Viktor an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out who it was that he was falling in unrequited love with. It makes his heart seize in his chest when Yuri gives him a bright smile and he feels a pang of pain shoot up his ribcage.

And then, slow repugnant horror.

Yuri—Yuri was a child!

How—how _could_ he?

What the fuck was his subconscious thinking?

He doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to manage the discovery. _No_ , he tells himself, _I will not be_ that _person. I will not hurt him, not like this. Not Yuri—never Yuri. Not the person I lo—_

Even saying the word in the privacy of his mind makes him want to recoil from himself. He has to get rid of this. He has to make it stop. Severe this feeling from the inside out.

He visits a doctor, and she looks at him with sympathy as she shows him the scan of his lungs.

“Hanahaki is rare among adults,” She begins, “Mostly because the feelings of minors tend to be more fickle and easily changed. It’s…vastly more deadly for adults and inconvenient too. Usually, the feelings don't go away. For teenagers and children, surgery is always the first thing we recommended because forgetting the person they love—“ And at this word, Viktor makes a noise of distress, “—doesn’t have the same repercussions as it would for an adult. It’s easy for them to forget and have their lives continue on as if nothing happened. For adults, on the other hand, it’s almost impossible to forget a person and not have it affect their daily lives.” She pauses, giving Viktor time to process what she’s said, “Your condition is in its early stages,” She points to the scan, at the little darkened spot in his lungs, “See how it’s barely even a bud?”

Viktor nods.

“The term ‘nip it in the bud’ is very literal right now. If you confess, it’ll be gone almost as soon as you say the words.”

“I can’t,” Viktor tells her.

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“I _can’t._ ” He stresses, “He’s—he’s easily influenced,” He tells her hoping she doesn’t ask why, “If I say something—if I c-confess, he’ll accept. Because he sees me as—as someone important. Even if he doesn’t feel the same, he’ll accept because I mean a lot to him and I will not put him in that position.”

The doctor purses her lips, “Well, the other thing I can suggest is surgery…but that would…make things complicated too.”

“I don’t want surgery either,” Viktor tells her, he runs a hand over his face, “Is there something else I can do?”

“We can suppress it, with medication. But it’s temporary and you’ll have to make a decision eventually. The flowers will keep growing and since yours is a rose...it's going to be painful too.”

“I-I will figure something out,” He tells her, “Later.”

The medicine slows the growth of the flowers and it eases the ache of longing in his chest. He never forgets that he’s sick, but being with Yuri and seeing him smiling, and talking to him, and arguing with him, and just _being_ with him makes it almost worth it. He knows it’s wrong, no one has to tell him, but Yuri brings color to his world. It makes him happy…like nothing in his life ever has.

He helps Yuri with his homework, teaches him how to cook, how to tie a tie, how to change the tire of a car, and how to ice skate. He takes on a more brotherly role because that’s all he can think to do to get scraps of Yuri’s attention. He encourages him to talk to the new boy in his class, the one from Kazakhstan, whom Viktor suspects Yuri has a crush on. He encourages him to ask him out on a date and when Yuri comes home glowing with a pretty red blush on his cheeks, Viktor teases him relentlessly until Yuri gets angry and stomps out of his apartment in a huff. When he’s gone Viktor swallows back down the bloody petals that threaten to escape out of his chest. He pops pill after pill telling himself that one day he’ll be brave enough to make a decision about his illness.

The next couple of years he lives with the flowers growing in his chest, watching Yuri grow and flourish into a beautiful, thoughtful—although very headstrong—young man. He stands to the side, watching it all happen, feeling his love deepen and deepen to the point that he doesn’t think he’ll ever undergo surgery. He doesn’t want to forget him. Not ever.

When Yuri is on the cusp of his eighteenth birthday, Viktor finds him crying on the stairs of their apartment complex.

“What’s wrong?” He worriedly asks, sitting beside him and running his ruffling his hair in familiarity.

The blonde shakes his head, and says, “Nothing is wrong, old man.”

Viktor rolls his eyes, “I’m supposed to believe that?”

“It’s true,” He replies, “Nothing is wrong.”

“Did you have another argument with Otabek?”

He shakes his head.

“With your mother?”

He shakes his head again. He sniffs and tells Viktor again, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly not nothing Yurochka.” Viktor states but leaves it at that. He’s learned that when Yuri wants to talk, he’ll talk, but forcing him is counterproductive. “Come on, let’s go upstairs, Makkachin is waiting for us.”

He grabs Yuri’s hand, privately relishing on the heat of his skin, “I’ll make you something to eat.”

Viktor still can’t understand why he had been so naive, and so blind.

Yuri sits on his couch, his eyes downcast when Viktor places some pirozhki on the coffee table in front of him. Yuri stares at the buns strangely and he shakes his head, whispering, “I can’t do this anymore.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Viktor asked, about to take a seat beside him.

Before he can sit, however, Yuri stands, grabbing his arm, and wrapping his other hand around Viktor’s neck, and pulling him down until they’re at the same level. Viktor’s breath painfully catches in his chest when he feels Yuri’s lips against his own and he freezes completely.

Yuri presses his lips more insistently but when Viktor doesn’t respond to his advances he pulls back, looking at Viktor with tears in his eyes, “I love you,” He confesses, his lips trembling.

Viktor looks at him with horrified surprise, “Wh-what are you even saying?” He asks. “You can’t love me!”

“Why not?” Yuri asks, “Why can’t I?”

“Yuri—you just can’t. What about Otabek? You’ve been dating him for almost two years!”

Yuri shakes his head, “Bekka and I broke up months ago. Because—because he realized that I loved you.” He pauses and Viktor is shaking his head in disbelief but Yuri presses on, “I’ve loved you since I was fifteen! I’ve loved only you!” He comes closer grabbing Viktor’s shirt, “Please—please say you love me too!”

Yuri is tall enough now that he doesn’t have to crane his neck to look up at Viktor, but in Viktor’s eyes he’s still that same kid he saw those first few weeks here, scratches on his arms, and dirt on his nose. The boy he’d fallen in helpless love with, and the one he promised himself to never hurt.

He grabs Yuri’s hands and pries his hands off him.

“Yuri,” He says, calmly despite the thorns digging in his esophagus, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes I do!” He says, “I—“ He coughs violently against Viktor and he presses a hand to his mouth, and when he draws it away, there’s a bloody rose in full bloom in his palm, he shows it to Viktor, and then weakly says, “See how much I love you.”

Tears prickle the back of Viktor’s eyes when he realizes how much Yuri has been suffering but can’t do this—not to Yuri. He grabs the rose in his hand, ignoring the way the warm blood feels, and closes his hand around it, crushing it, he pulls Yuri close, wrapping his arms around his shoulders, “You’ve confessed.” He mumbles against his hair, “You’ll be okay now.”

Yuri shakes his head, “I won’t be. I love you too much.”

“Then you’ll get surgery,” Viktor states levelly, “And live your life without looking back at this.”

“No! I won’t do it! I don’t want to forget you!”

He pulls Yuri away, holding him by the shoulders, resorting to cruelty to preserve his future.

“I don’t love you,” He tells him, clearly, enunciating every word carefully so the boy doesn’t twist his words into something that they’re not, “I won’t _ever_ love you. If you don’t get surgery. You will die for nothing.”

Yuri looks at him with pain marring his every feature, and his mouth drops open, he gapes trying to find words but Viktor continues, “Do you think I could ever love a child like you?”

“I—“

“All these years, I’ve only helped you because I felt sorry for you. Because I pitied you. Because you were so easy to manipulate and lie to. Do you understand me?”

The boy shakes his head, “You-you’re lying to me! You don’t mean that! You’re trying to protect me so that means—that means you also—“

“I DON’T” Viktor shouts in his face, “And I’m tired of putting up with you! I’m sick of you! I’ve been trying to get rid of you since the day you decided we were friends! I’m tired of pretending to tolerate you.” He breathes in deeply, knowing that his words were cutting deeper than any thorn or surgery knife ever would. “It’s time to stop playing house, Yuri. I’m tired—so _tired_ of entertaining a child.”

Before he knows what’s happening, Yuri draws his hand back and punches Viktor across the face, and he stumbles away from him. He grabs his face with the hand that was holding the rose Yuri had coughed up. 

“Is that how you really feel?” Yuri asks, his voice cracking.

Viktor says nothing and looks at him one last time—commits him to memory, down to every last wet lash framing his teary eyes. _My Yura,_ Viktor tells him silently, _I will always love you._

“ANSWER ME!” Yuri shouts, his voice snapping Viktor out of his trance.

“I have nothing more to say to you,” Viktor tells him.

Yuri runs out of the apartment, leaving Viktor behind, and he takes with him, all of Viktor’s love, and all his life, and all his joy.

* * *

It’s a long shot, Yuri knows this. Knows that it’s too coincidental to have anything to do with him but something inside him makes him take a leap of faith. On a Saturday, when he’s sure Yuuri will visit the hospice, he follows him. He maintains his distance, making sure to keep out of Yuuri’s line of sight.

The Japanese man enters the gray, dreary-looking building and Yuri hurries after him, “I’m here to see Viktor Nikiforov,” He hears him tell the receptionist as he hastily tries to hide behind a potted plant.

“Sign here,” She tells him, “He’s in room 224.”

“He’s been moved?” Yuri hears him ask.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Ah,” Yuuri sadly says, “I understand.”

Yuri doesn’t move from his spot for a long time then he forces his legs to move, straightening his shoulders and walking up to the receptionists as Yuuri had done.

She smiles kindly at him and he clears his throat, “I’m here to see Viktor Nikiforov.”

“Oh, he already has a visitor and he can only one person at a time can see him.” She looks down at the sign-in form, “I can let you see him once his other visitor is gone.”

“That—that would be okay,” He tells her.

“You can wait in the waiting area,” She says to him, “Or in the gardens, whichever you prefer.”

He goes out into the gardens, feeling his stomach twist and turn itself into knots.

 _What the fuck am I doing?_ He asks himself, _I don’t even know this guy…I’m intruding on him…but no! I need to know…I just…need to know._

He debates with himself for a long time, and more than once he tells himself to go home but another part of him argues back that this could be his only chance. A hour passes, then two, then three, and Yuuri is probably long gone by this point but Yuri is still frozen by indecision. Eventually, he shakes his head and tells himself, _I’ll only see him from far away._

He goes back inside and the receptionist is surprised to see him, “I thought you had left,” She tells him.

“I just…lost track of time,” He lamely lies.

“Well, he’s alone now, you can pass to see him. Room 224, second floor, right at the end of the hall.”

His walk up to the room feels eternal like every second is being dragged out by a thousand hours. He can hear his heartbeat in his ears and his foot steps on the tile floor sound like waves crashing against the sea. When he comes face to face with room 224 he stands outside of it for a long time, his hand paralyzed on the doorknob.

He takes a deep breath, and twists the knob, quietly pushing in the door.

The room is entirely white, the walls, the furniture, the chair beside the bed, the sheets, even the man laying on the bed. He’s so pale Yuri can barely distinguish him from the rest of the room.

Yuri slips inside, not letting himself hesitate.

He closes the door behind him and stands leaning against it, feeling like an intruder.

The man—Viktor—seems to be asleep, his breathing comes out in wheezes and he looks to be in pain. Every breath he takes seems like an agonizing torture. He steps closer, carefully observing him. He doesn’t recognize him from anywhere, and Yuri feels like a heartless bastard coming to see a dying man because of his own selfishness.

He stands right beside the bed, looking down at him, his hair is thin and silver, and his skin looks clammy and unhealthy. Intense shame floods him, _what the hell was he doing here?_

He’s about to run out of there when the man cracks his eyes open and his unfocused gaze falls on Yuri. He blinks as if trying to decide if Yuri is really there or not.

He’s going to apologize, beg for forgiveness when Viktor gives him a heartbreaking smile, “ _Yurochka,_ ” He says through his pain, and Yuri’s eyes widen, “You’re here.” He closes his blue eyes, “I’m so glad.”

“H-hey,” Yuri says, not understanding a thing, “Wh-what are you talking about?”

Viktor doesn't answer him, his eyes closing, and Yuri grabs his hand, "He-hey!"

The man on the bed forces his eyes open and looks up at Yuri, and Yuri can see his reflection in his dying eyes. He raises a weak hand to Yuri's cheek, barely grazing his skin with his fingertips, "I'm sorry I hurt you," He says with difficulty, "I love you, dear Yura."

And Yuri—Yuri feels rage flood him, even though he doesn't understand where it's coming from.

"You fucking bastard," Yuri tells him, grabbing him by the collar of his thin gown that covers his thin body, "You can't do this shit to me! You can't tell me shit like that and _hurt_ me and then die without paying for it!" He shakes him roughly, "Fuck you! Don't die! Don't do this to me!" He feels tears streaming down his face, "I can't remember! I can't remember you at all! Don't die! I won't be able to live-to live without you." 

He doesn't realize the ruckus he's making until some of the nurses are prying his hands off Viktor's robe. 

"Sir!" They're telling him, "You need to leave!"

"Get the surgery!" He shouts over the cacophony of voices, "Get the surgery, you coward! And then come face me like a man! Please..." He weakly says as the nurses finally manage to begin to drag him away and then he's begging whoever will listen, "Please-he needs-he needs to get surgery!" 

He's thrown out of the hospice after they threaten to call the police if he doesn't leave on his own. And Yuri goes home, feeling empty and hurt and betrayed. 

He leans against the door of his room, crying his eyes out as Makkachin and Potya crowd around him, licking at his tears and trying to comfort him. 

* * *

Otabek looks quite livid when Viktor hands over Makkachin's leash. In the other room, Yuri is sleeping, his surgery complete.

"Make sure she's with him when he wakes up," He tells him. 

"You're making a mistake," The younger boy angrily answers him. "A stupid mistake." 

Viktor doesn't deign him with a response, instead, he kneels and hugs Makkachin close, "Take care of Yuri," He murmurs against her fur. "You're the only one of us who can."

* * *

Yuuri wheels him out of the ward with excited, nervous chatter and Viktor is only half paying attention to him. 

"I adopted a kitten," His friend is saying, "You're going to love her! She's so cuddly! I never thought cats could be so clingy!"

"I can't wait to meet her," He answers, his gaze turning upwards toward the blue, clear sky.

They walk along the courtyard of the hospital and Yuuri wheels him to a stop by the flowerbeds as he excuses himself, "I'm going to go the restroom. I'll be right back."

Viktor watches him go and then turns his attention to the sky again. He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and before he knows what's happening a giant poodle is right in front of his face, wagging its tail with complete and utter excitement.

"Down girl," He hears someone say, and when the dog obeys, Viktor concludes that he must be her owner.

The blond man looks at him with intense focus and it makes the hair on the back of Viktor's neck stand on end, "Hello," He greets, "She's yours?"

"Ours," The man corrects automtically and Viktor raises an eyebrow. "I mean—yes."

Viktor nods slowly, "She's very cute."

"I'm Yuri Plisetsky," The man introduces himself, and then after a pause he asks, "Do you remember me?"

Viktor smiles sadly, "No, should I?"

"No," Yuri says curtly, "No. I just wanted to make sure it was me you'd forgotten."

Viktor understands immediately what this is about, and he teases, with his heart racing in his chest, "You broke my heart?"

"Tch, you broke mine first," He says, "I don't remember you either..." He worries his bottom lip with his teeth and Viktor wonders how they would feel against his own. "To be honest I don't know what happened between us...all I know is I must have loved you at some point because I forgot about you. And you must've loved me...because you forgot me."

"So where do we go from here?" Viktor asks as something warm, painless, and beautiful blooms in his chest.

"I don't know." Yuri honestly says, "But...I'm willing to try and find out."

Makkachin barks, looking between them with excitement, now the only witness remaining that will remember the love that existed in the past and the one that would exist in the future.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please let me know what you thought! I'd appreciate it!
> 
> by the way, this story was partially inspired by these rescue videos: [one](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eHuU0863ojs&t=2s)  
> [two](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQo9THlq9Mc)  
> this is what i somewhat imagine the park to look like
> 
> (also ps. i might write an 'extra' bc you know I'm always for epilogues lololol)


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